


Something New

by Crystalessences



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: CNC, D/s tones, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, It's just porn guys, Kink Negotiation, PWP, prompt request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29706273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalessences/pseuds/Crystalessences
Summary: Boba Fett x fem!readerBoba wants to bring one of your fantasies to life.--prompt request“Pretend you don’t want it” & “You know I love you; right? I have every intention of fucking you like I don’t.”
Relationships: Boba Fett/Reader, Boba Fett/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 89





	Something New

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: I think Boba comes with his own warning… Explicit sexual content, consensual non-consent, discussion of kink, discussion of safe words, d/s tones, rough sex, degradation, cuffs, knife is present (no knife play), orgasm denial, unprotected P in V sex, predator/prey if you squint and close one eye … so basically this is filthy ya’ll

Despite what most folks thought of Boba Fett and his gruff disposition, Boba was a generous lover. The bounty hunter never left you wanting (unless that was the goal) and was more than happy to experiment with other ways to sate both your needs. It was not uncommon for Boba to probe for new ideas as you both laid wrapped up in each other, drifting on the last waves of bliss.

“I know there must be something,” he murmurs against your skin, lips dragging against the sensitive length of your throat, “you cannot lie to me, mesh’la.”

Breath caught in your chest; you squirm under his scrutiny. There were times you cursed just how perceptive your Mandalorian was. He could read you like a book. But even knowing Boba as you did, there were still some desires you were hesitant to share. Fantasies held close to your chest that you did not expect to ever share with a partner.

Boba is relentless. Once he sinks his teeth into something he will not let go. This is no different. He sees you holding back, and he will dig until he unburies it. “Love,” he presses a series of chaste kisses across your cheeks, “I want you to feel good. Let me make you feel good.”

You know he does. He has yet to try anything that does not. “Boba…”

He pulls back, expectant as he studies your face. “I’ve never- it’s not…” the words are heavy on your tongue, “it’s not something I’ve shared.”

Boba’s face softens as he gathers you up in his arms. Warm hands running up and down your back as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck. “Take your time, mesh’la. I don’t want to upset you.”

You take a few calming breaths, following the movements of Boba’s fingers across your skin. “You know I like it when you get a bit rough.” The two of you had played around with that plenty. Boba was a strong man and you enjoyed when he took advantage of that in the bedroom. Nothing ever reached the point of pain, but he always left you a pleasant kind of sore when you were finished.

“I know you do,” he rumbles deep in his chest as he continues to soothe you.

“And I like it when you’re in charge.” Considering his personality and line of work it shouldn’t surprise anyone he enjoyed it just as much as you. He reveled in the control as much as your reveled in submitting to him.

Boba chuckles again, “oh do you?”

Smacking at his chest, you pout, “don’t tease, Boba!”

“I’m sorry, mesh’la. Keep going.”

“I like it when you use me…” this was rather new between the two of you, but it had become obvious that you both enjoyed when Boba let loose and used you to fuck out his frustrations. Even when Boba focuses on his own pleasure, he manages to leave you happy and satisfied.

“Yes.” You can hear the curiosity peak in his voice. You most definitely had his attention now.

“I want that all… for you to get rough and use me, but I not want it…” your voice trails off, burying yourself further into his chest and holding your breath.

Boba remains eerily still for a long moment. Every fear you’d had over admitting this to him flashes before your eyes. The disgust or rejection. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes at the thought.

His hand flexes against your hips, fingers digging into your skin. “Princess… you want to _pretend you don’t want it_?”

Eyes cinched shut you nod into his shoulder, just wanting to melt into a puddle and leave all the embarrassment behind.

Instead of shoving you away Boba groans and pulls you even closer. Chest to chest you can feel his breathing pick up. “You want me to get rough, to take you, even though you’re telling me no?”

You think your whole body is flushed now as Boba’s words rattle around in your head. Ever perceptive, he knows exactly what you want. He does not sound opposed either. No, you can hear the excitement behind his word.

“Yes.”

“That can be arranged, princess,” the bounty hunter practically purrs.

Boba is meticulous with the barrage of questions that follow, but you understand their necessity. He would never actually hurt you and wanted to put every safeguard in place to keep any accidents from happening. It was also about setting up the most pleasurable scene for the both of you, making sure you would both enjoy embracing one of your less conventional fantasies. He walks you through every element of his plans without actually spoiling the “surprise.” This only serves to build up the anticipation. While the two of you already use the color system when trying out something new in bed, you settle on an additional safeword for good measure, satisfying Boba’s need to have redundancies on top of redundancies. He not only needed to be in control of you, he needed to have complete control over the situation as well.

You can hardly contain yourself the next day at the market. You know it’s coming but you don’t know when. The anticipation alone was already working you up as you navigate the market crowds. You figure he wouldn’t grab you in front of anyone, or within shouting distance either. Neither of you were wanting to cause a scene, especially somewhere you two often stopped to resupply. You could still feel his watchful gaze following you through town as you finished up the shopping. Despite all the training he’d given you between jobs over the years, you still couldn’t tell where he was watching you from or how he was following you. It was frustrating, but it spoke to Boba’s skill. He never failed to impress, even when it came to your little game.

Standing on the edge of town you attempt to still your racing heart. You can still feel his eyes on you, igniting your most basic instincts. Your gut tells you to stay in the settlement, knowing you are safe around other people, but your core urges you on down the wooded path, eager for the promise of what’s to come. It all leaves you too tense to appreciate the walk back to the ship, you’re too focused on every sound, ever sign of the man hot on your trail.

As the town fades out of view your body realizes what’s happening seconds before your mind does. Boba, the picture of calm, strolls out of the tree line a few paces ahead, decked out in full armor, favorite baster strapped to his hip. The picture of an intimidating hunter. You just freeze and stare, like a deer caught in headlights as his visor remains trained on you.

When your mind finally does catch up it screams at you. Your fight or flight kicks in and you know there’s no way in hell you could ever overpower Boba. Ditching your pack, you spin on your heel and put all you have into a full sprint back towards safety. Realistically you know you would not get far. Boba’s reputation was not for nothing. He had a lifetime of practice in catching people and catch you he did. One thick arm appears out of nowhere, latching around your torso as his other hand clamps down over your mouth, cutting off your ear-piercing screech. He hauls you back into his chest despite your flailing. Your kicking does little against his beskar as he pins your arms to your sides.

His laugh crackles through the helmet at your pathetic attempts to escape. “Now, now, little one. If you stay still for me, I might be gentle with you.” Heat washes over your body at the insinuation but despite your submissive streak, that’s not what this was about. Boba gets off on working you into submission just as much as seeing you willing give it. You didn’t plan on be willing today.

The moment he removes his hand from your mouth you resume your struggle. Your shouts lost to the trees. “Let me go you sleemo!”

He laughs again, grip tightening around you, acting as if your thrashing doesn’t inconvenience him at all.

“I haven’t done anything! Let me go!” you wail.

“I beg to differ,” he shoots back as he snaps his binders over your right wrist.

“Oh no, no, no! No! Let me go!” Nearly frantic you try with your whole being to keep him from locking in your other hand, but your struggle doesn’t amount to much. His posture screams smug as he tightens the metal around your wrists. It was not the first time Boba had used his binders on you and the memories of the nights before sends a pleasant warmth to your core despite the situation.

With little preamble Boba hoists you up over his shoulder, your upper half hanging over his back. His arm wrapped around your waist keeps your squirming to a minimum, so you resort to pounding your bound fists against his back. It only serves to amuse him further. You’re probably doing more damage to your hands as you repeatedly bash at his armor.

He ignores every insult and curse you hurl his way as he treks back to Slave I. Your voice starting to go hoarse as he carries you up the ramp and none to gently tosses you to the floor of the hull.

Boba stands above you, his visor following your frantic movements, still searching for an escape. A few taps on his vambrace has the ramp closing behind him, sealing your fate. Tilting his helmet ever so slightly the menacing aura melts away, “color?”

“Green,” you nod, and the bounty hunter snaps back into place.

“Up,” he orders, jerking his helmet at you.

You fix a glare up at him, refusing to make this easy for him.

A sigh filters through the modulator, “don’t say I didn’t give you a chance to make this pleasant.” In a flash he’s yanking you across the floor by your cuffs. The metal floor dragging uncomfortably across your back. You told him you liked it when he manhandled you and he obviously remembered. He pulls up onto a blanket laid out along the far wall, forcing you to sit, back pressed into the metal pipping as he shackles your hands above your head. You didn’t even get the luxury of a bed now.

“Please,” you beg, tugging at your restraints, “you don’t have to do this. Let me go.”

His wide form kneels at your feet as he twirls his viroblade in one hand. Blood roars in your ears as your eyes lock on the blade.

“Oh, but I do have to,” you can picture his Cheshire grin under the helmet as he drags the knife up your pant leg.

“Oh please, no. Please don’t.” Your begging turns to whimpers as the blade continues upwards. He toys with the edge of your shirt for a moment before his visor snaps up. “Hold still.”

His tone leaves no argument, and you freeze as the viroblade is jerked upwards, slicing the front of your top clean open with one flick of his wrist. Tears build in the corner of your eyes as he tugs the ruined clothing open to expose as much of you to him as he can with your hands still bound.

“Look at you,” he groans, one gloved hand coming up to tweak one peaked nipple through your breast band. Your pleas fall on deaf ears as he yanks the band down, exposing your breasts to his rough groping.

As your pleas fade into weak whines Boba seems satisfied with your chest, his hands get to work unlacing your pants. You whimper one last “please” before he rips them down your legs taking your underwear with.

“Ha, you act like you don’t want this-” he runs one hand up your slit, the evidence of your arousal collecting on his glove- “but you’re dripping for me,” he sneers.

“No! I don’t-please, I don’t!” you sob, tugging helplessly at your binders. The metal rattles against the pipe.

Boba scoffs, “sure you don’t.” With what you imagine as a roll of his eyes, he yanks your hips forward, allowing him better access to your cunt. Two fingers press into your sopping hole, drawing a garbled cry from your lips.

“So fucking wet,” he spits, voice crackling through the helmet as he begins to coax the coil in your belly tighter and tighter with his vicious fingering. You bite your bottom lip to hold back the moans, still trying to retain some sense of pride and deny him the pleasure.

“So fucking tight,” he grins, “can’t wait to feel you squeezing my cock, girl.”

Crooking his fingers, he presses up against that spot inside you, pushing you right up to the edge before he quickly withdraws his hand. Legs quivering, you sob at the harsh denial.

“Ready for my cock, girl?” he taunts, moving back to his feet.

Bleary eyed you shake your head, a quiet “no” falling from bruised lips.

“I think you are.” Boba grips under your shoulders, hauling you to your feet and freeing your cuffs from the ship wall before quickly manhandling you to your hands and knees. You can’t get any purchase on the floor or blanket with your hands still in the binders. Your arms slide out in front of you, leaving your face pressed into the blanket, ass arched into the air. Boba groans at the sight

“Prefect,” he rasps, leaning over your body. His cool beskar pressed against your flushed skin, a small relief. Hands settling into a vice grip around your hips he rubs himself against your weeping folds, coating his cock in your arousal.

When did he? You don’t even remember hearing him unzip.

Bearing down on you, cock notched at your entrance he rests his helmet over your shoulder. “ _You know I love you, right?_ ”

“Y-yes,” you croak, trying to turn towards him.

_“I have every intention of fucking you like I don’t.”_

“Please!” you cry, though you’re not sure what you’re begging for at this point.

With one quick thrust Boba sheathes himself in you, burying himself to the hilt. You swear you can feel him in your throat as he throbs inside your heat. One hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back as he begins to pound into you.

Boba doesn’t lie. He fucks you like he’s never fucked you before, his hips relentlessly pistoning into you, driving his cock home again and again. Tears stream down your face as he draws you back up to the precipice, the coil ready to snap again. Boba can feel it, his hips stutter as you grip him in a vice.

“Come on then,” he grunts, pulling on your hair again, “come all over my cock, girl.”

Your body listens, your orgasm slams into you, forcing the air from your lungs. Overwhelmed with your own release you barely register Boba groaning above you, burying himself in you as he cums, his warm seed filling you to the brim.

Neither of you move for a long moment, letting the waves of pleasure recede before untangling yourselves. Boba curses as he pulls out, the mix of your release dripping down your already messy thighs. Tucking himself away he settles next to you, dragging your limp body into his lap. Blissed out, you let him go about freeing you from the cuffs, inspecting your wrists for any irritations.

“Mesh’la,” he coos, wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks, “how are you feeling?”

Smiling up at him, you lean into his gentle touch. “Good… sore and tired… but very good.”

“And was that everything you wanted?”

“Everything and more, Boba.”

Ever the generous lover.


End file.
